To be well
by TartanPhoenix
Summary: He would tell her everything


Disclaimer: They belong to J.

Albus walked back into the Hospital Wing, nodding at Poppy as she tucked the sheet in tightly around her patient, smoothing back a lock of raven hair as she did. She straightened up, brushing away a tear, and approached him. "Mr. Tidwell?"

Blue eyes glowed for a moment, and Poppy could hear the weariness edging out the rage. "Taken care of."

His face was unreadable, stone, his eyes locked over her shoulder at the woman in the bed. Poppy sighed and nodded. "She hit her head fairly hard coming down, Headmaster. There was also a broken rib, a tooth missing, and she's black and blue from head to toe. All that's left are the bruises, but I'll need to wait a bit; the salve we have could interact poorly with the skelo-grow for her tooth."

He ran a heavy hand across his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose, almost dropping his glasses in the process. He could feel the slight tremor in his hand. "When will she wake up?"

Poppy shook her head, pulling out her small pin watch to check the time. Just past ten. She'd been unconscious twelve hours already. "I don't know. I'm worried about the head injury. The sooner she wakes up, the better, and then she'll need rest, but there's not much I can do in the meantime." She nodded toward the bed, stepping away from the private area and into the dim ward beyond. "Go sit with her a bit. If anyone can coax her out, it's you; that stroll you like to take before breakfast is still the only reason she gets herself out of bed before seven." She smiled gently when he actually looked surprised. "Go on, it'll do you both good. Just make sure you get some rest yourself." With that, she was gone and the ward was dark but for a single candle and the moonlight.

He took a step forward, his robes whispering across the floor. He stubbed his toe on the bed frame and swore under his breath, limping the rest of the way. There was a chair at her bedside, a hideous wooden thing. He sat on the bed instead, and it sagged under his weight. He frowned slightly. She looked so small all of a sudden surrounded by white sheets, the moonlight highlighting her bruises. He picked up her hand and shivered at the cold skin. Bringing it to his lips, he blew on it, rubbing gently, never taking his eyes off her. Her fingers twitched as his beard brushed against her palm.

"I need you to open your eyes, Minerva. Wake up, my dear." It was foolish to expect a reaction, but he couldn't help but be discouraged when there was none. His shoulders slumped a little and he ran his hands over hers, keeping it warm, needing to touch her.

"I've dealt with Mr. Tidwell. The Aurors are with him now." The light from the flickering candle made her look wane, waxen. He blew it out. "Ms. Baker, the second year Hufflepuff, is quite all right. You managed to push her out of the way just in time. It took Professor Maddock twenty minutes to calm her down. It took Dilys half an hour to settle me so I wouldn't kill Tidwell at first glance. She must have been an amazing woman when she was alive. I expelled him; he claimed it was a prank gone wrong, but you flew thirty feet. I can only guess what would have happened to Ms. Baker. I expelled him, Min, and I snapped his wand in half with just a squeeze of the hand. He was in tears when I threw it in the fire and the Aurors escorted him out. It's nothing more than ash under my grate now, and I'm glad. Heaven help me, I'm glad."

His breathing shuddered as he remembered rounding the corner to screams and her still body crumpled over a fallen suit of armour. The force of his magic had parted the students before him like the Red Sea and then she was in his arms. He ran. Albus twitched and convulsively squeezed her hand, bringing himself back to the present. She was alive; she was safe. "Oh, sweetheart, wake up."

A cloud shifted, blocking out the light of the moon, and in the darkness it was easier. He could pretend she was whole, unharmed. Her skin was pale, a hint of rose at the cheek when he would stare, and he loved to stare. In the dark, he could think the words, almost say them aloud, make them real. The cloud continued on its way and he could see her again. She was beautiful. "I will tell you, my dear. No more worries; when you're well, I'll tell you. Just please, don't hex me too badly."

Hours later Albus shifted on the mattress, bumping her thigh in the process when he felt it twitch back once, then twice. "Minerva?" He called her softly, urgently. The hand still trapped between his flexed, and he could see the barest hint of movement at her eyelids. "Wake up, my dear. Open your eyes for me." Her eyelashes fluttered quickly and her breathing changed. "That's it, Min, come back. Open your eyes!"

With everything she had, her eyelids slid open. Her eyes were glassy and unfocused for a moment, trying to comprehend before they landed on him. Her hand clamped down in his, holding on for dear life as her eyes widened. Her mouth began to move, but no sound came out, and her chest heaved as she panicked and lurched upward toward him. His free hand went to the base of her neck, his fingers running upward to brush her jaw, gently pushing her back down while he pulled their joined one to his chest. "Shhh, my dear. It's all right. You've been hurt; you lost a tooth, so Poppy immobilized your tongue while it re-grows to avoid any more damage. That's why your gums are numb as well. Don't try to talk; just relax."

His thumb stroked along her cheek, wiping away the one tear that escaped while she settled back against the pillow. She only gripped his hand harder, her nails biting into his hand when she shifted and her ribs pulled and the bruises ached. She let out a strangled gasp when she saw the rivulet of blood run down his hand in the faint light and tried to pull her hand away, but he held fast and another tear slid down her cheek. "I'm here. You're not getting rid of me that easily. I've survived your tongue lashings before; what's a little scratch after that?" She managed a watery smile for him, the small gap up front slowly filling in.

Her eyes fluttered closed a moment when his fingers trailed through her hair, bruising along her ear. His fingers were warm. "You should get some rest, Minerva. Your birthday is next week, and we can't have you laid up for that. A witch doesn't turn thirty-four every day, after all. You need to be well enough to feign surprise at your surprise party. . . I need you well again." His fingers danced across her cheek once more before shifting, pushing himself upward and away from her. Her eyes were glassy again, but she didn't release him when he loosened his grip. Her eyes never left his when she brought their joined hands to her chest, resting them just above her heart, squeezing his yet again.

Her free hand reached for his, shaking as she extended a finger. It landed on his wrist, and he watched her work to move that single digit. The letters were clumsy, but her meaning had been clear. He kicked off his boots and carefully curled himself up against her side, feeling her sag against him. "Of course I'll stay." His voice was barely a rough whisper. "Close your eyes and sleep. I'll stay. I'm here. You're safe." Her eyes closed again and her breathing evened. She would be okay; she would wake up again. He would tell her everything. "I do love you so."


End file.
